


Kissing Daybreak

by Neyiea



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Porn, ambiguous timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1715918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Heir Apparent of Erebor and the Lady of Dale spend an evening together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled: 'Fíli goes down on Sigrid and they both _really_ like it.'

The sounds made as he rubs his fingers against her have become wet and throughly obscene, and Sigrid thinks she might have blushed if all the spare blood in her body hadn't already pooled between her thighs.

She shifts, her bare legs spreading wider; Fíli's gaze flicks up to her face and his roguish smirk makes her heart stutter.

She isn't quite sure how a little bit of flirting ended up with her on her back, skirt and slip hiked up around her hips and a fully clothed dwarf prince between her legs, but she can't say that she minds.

If this is indecent, she never wants to be decent again.

"You're doing beautifully Sigrid," he whispers, breath gusting over her, and it isn't fair that he can still speak easily when she feels as though she is loosing her mind.

Up until now she hasn't been sure of what to do with her hands, keeping them clenched in her skirts and the bed covers, but on a whim she reaches down to tangle one fist in his hair. He makes a low, pleased sound and his fingers slide down from where they'd been focussing to lightly circle around the rim of her opening.

Her hips surge forwards, and she may have let out a high whine when Fíli's hand retreats.

"Fíli, please," she appeals, "touch me."

"I am touching you." And indeed his hand has come back, a ghost of a caress that is not nearly enough.

"Touch me more," Sigrid demands, " _deeper_."

She feels a thrill of satisfaction when Fíli looks up at her, his eyes dark and breathing on the verge of becoming ragged. 

He draws his fingers up and down her labia, his other hand pushing the lips apart so that he can see her clearly. No one has ever looked at her like this before. She'd be embarrassed at the way he can't seem to take his eyes off of her if she didn't feel so good. Fíli presses lightly against her clit in fast strokes that make her fingers clench in his hair, and the next time he trails the rough digit down to spread the wetness seeping from her he gently presses inside.

It is too shallow, not nearly enough, and Sigrid shifts restlessly in an attempt to draw him in.

"Patience, my lady," Fíli chides, obstinately not giving in to what they both want, "good things come to those who wait."

She draws the fingers of her free hand against his mouth, torn between dragging him up for a kiss and demanding he give her what she wants.

"I have waited so long already," her nails lightly scratch against his chin as her hand drops, "if you will not give me what I ask for, I shall take care of it myself."

She is not entirely surprised that Fíli's hand encircles her wrist before she can reach her goal. She is, however, shocked by the almost excessive dampness of his fingers. She'd known she was getting slicker; the tops of her thighs soaked and the blankets underneath her wet, but had all of that really been produced by her?

"Beautiful Sigrid," Fíli begins, unaware that her attention has shifted, "please allow me to do this. The wait will be worth it, I assure you." He kisses the inside of her thigh, and his lips are moist when he pulls away.

Sigrid is not sure what prompts her to bring Fíli's wet hand up to her mouth, curiosity perhaps, but she does it all the same. She can taste herself on his fingertips, and though she is not entirely certain whether she likes it or not she does enjoy the way Fíli's gaze stays locked on her during the process. It is as if his entire world has narrowed down to just her.

He licks his lips and shudders. 

"You are making it very difficult to take things slow, Sigrid."

"Good." She settles back down, hips shifting upwards in blatant invitation. "You can take as long as you like next time, but I need you, Fíli." The hand still tangled in his locks tilts his head, his gaze, down to where his attention ought to be. "Do whatever you'd like, just do it _now_."

He groans, hands trailing down to push her legs wider open, and before Sigrid can have more than a fleeting concern that giving him free reign was not a good idea his lips are upon her.

"Oh." Both hands twist in his hair, as if to lock him in place. " _Oh_."

His mouth is hot and wet against her, the smoothness of his tongue as he firmly laps at her clit has a wordless litany of need falling from Sigrid's lips. Her hips raise up as her hands push down, and Fíli's grip tightens on her thighs as he licks, kisses and pants right against her. Just when she thinks it couldn't get any better he moves further down, pressing in deeper than he had with his finger. He curls inside of her, then slowly draws halfway out, repeating the motion harder and faster until Sigrid's toes are curling and her legs strain against his hold. She is already on the brink when he pulls up again, replacing his tongue with two fingers which slide inside of her so easily, and then he wraps his lips around her swollen clit and _sucks_.

Sigrid bites her lip to keep from screaming and rocks against him until her orgasm finally subsides. Her hands fall from his hair and her chest heaves as she tries to calm her breathing.

She feels boneless, like she could melt into a puddle of content exhaustion, even as Fíli presses a final series of kisses against her.

When he pulls away it is not only his lips that are shiny and damp, and Sigrid wishes she had the energy to pull him up and press open mouthed kisses against him. Thankfully Fíli crawls up the bed to lay by her side without any urging, and he runs his fingers through her hair in a way that makes Sigrid's eyelids feel ten times heavier.

"You are tired, sleep."

"But what about you? Don't you need-" She pauses at the feel of his lips softly pressing against her own.

Her eyes flutter shut.

"I do not need anything that you have not already freely given, Sigrid," he sighs happily against her lips before burrowing his face in the crook of her neck. "Sleep."

She does.


End file.
